Skip Doyle in Beacon during his paddle down the Hudson River to mark the 10th anniversary of Sept. 11, 2001.

Editor's Note: This is the third installment of Skip Doyle's account of a paddling trip he took down the Hudson River in September 2011 to mark the 10th anniversary of Sept. 11, 2001.

Day 3: Sept. 13 - Catskill to Esopus (30 miles)

Putting in at 7 a.m., I was greeted with a sunrise over Olana, home of Hudson River School painter Frederick Church, and calm waters coming out of the creek. The no man's land south of Catskill was remote, and the rising Catskill Mountains in the distance over which I have trekked many times made me feel at home. By mid-morning, a 25 mph wind from the south was breaking waves over my bow as my craft submerged into the white caps. In short, it was a difficult day throughout. Hugging the eastern shore seemed to lessen the effect of the wind and waves, though at times, the waves rebounding off the rocks seemed to compound the turbulence.

My sole respite was a 3-by-3-foot rock sheltered behind Magdalen Island off Tivoli. Standing upon it for lunch was brief since that tiny rock a few inches above the water surface was quickly submerged by the rising tide. Testimony to the strong south wind: The flag atop the Rhinecliff Bridge was sticking straight out as a board. Because of weather conditions, I was unable to cross to the Saugerties Lighthouse as I hoped, and at Rhinebeck, I considered either overnighting at the B&B or taking Amtrak back to my car in Rensselaer. My fateful decision: Make a mad dash past green buoy 73 with waves breaking over my gunwales to my childhood home, Port Ewen.

After a few harrowing minutes of concentrated paddling with breakers washing into my cockpit, I was in Port Ewen, where I was welcomed to use the bathroom at the Hidden Harbor Boat Club, used a sponge to sop out the water in my boat, had a bite to eat on the dock and then took to the seas again. Just south of the boat club, I coincidentally encountered Ed Weber, director of the Esopus Lighthouse Commission, with whom I have labored to restore the lighthouse. While for him it is a daily labor of love, I can claim to have done little more than to have painted the cupola. Finally taking out at Mount St. Alphonsus in Esopus at 6 p.m., I enjoyed a shower, a bed and a good night's sleep. This is the only day I had muscle fatigue with sore trapeziuses, and my shoulder joints felt achy enough that I consumed the one, sole aspirin of this trip.

The highlight of the day was discovering a Greek-style estate on the Columbia County shore opposite the Catskill Mountains, home of Hudson River School artist Thomas Cole. I felt compelled to take a photograph of this pastoral scene with its Claudian trees, clouded blue sky, calm waters and greenery.

Day 4: Sept. 14, Esopus to Beacon (25 miles)

In the morning, I shared Mass with the Redemptoristine nuns of Mount St. Alphonsus. Afterward, one of the sisters asked me, "What community to you belong to?" Thinking how this cloistered order misses out on seeing God face-to-face in creation, I answered, "The community without walls." Attending Mass got me a late start of 11 a.m., so I paddled past Esopus Island though I so would have liked to explore that state land. Having grown up in the Town of Esopus, each historic site, each religious institute, each place of note was recognizable as home to me. And while I have always deemed the Hudson River Valley "my kingdom," it is not until this paddle expedition that it truly became my own.

As I rounded Rogers Point, the large waves behind me washed over my stern. I found that while the tall bow would handle anything, the stern of my kayak was susceptible to following seas. I think about the two canoeists who capsized and drowned here during their midnight paddle: This section is challenging enough with daylight and a snug life jacket; dark, drinking and ill-prepared is foolhardy and tragic.

Ahead were the magnificent buildings of the Culinary Institute of America and the Marist College campus. There is a long tradition of crewing on this section of the river, which continues with Marist athletics and Poughkeepsie rowing clubs.

Passing Poughkeepsie and the Walkway Over the Hudson pedestrian bridge, I made a pit stop at the Pirate Canoe Club. A stranger welcomed me at the dock, brought me into the clubhouse to chat with "the good ol' boys," and served me a soda. I had such a fine time that I felt more like I was attending a high school reunion than in the midst of a Hudson River journey.

I have discovered that unlike hiking, in which the day will be some sort of weather or another, every hour on the river brings different conditions due to ever changing and conflicting tides, currents, wind, clouds, sunlight, debris, depth, boat traffic and weather. Arriving at Beacon at sunset as the Sloop Woody Guthrie set sail for a twilight cruise, I could not but exclaim, "It doesn't get any better than this!"